


dum vivimus vivamus

by littleleotas



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Fluff, Hope, M/M, Nature, bad latin puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 16:45:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13322313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleleotas/pseuds/littleleotas
Summary: Courier Tertius wants to show Arcade something beautiful.





	dum vivimus vivamus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oneshycrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneshycrow/gifts).



> For oneshycrow in the writer's block holiday exchange!

The sun setting over the Mojave cast the world in a light between red and purple, a magical in-between that made the world seem distinctly unreal. Arcade squinted, unnecessarily due both to his glasses and because Tertius was not that far ahead; the light seemed thick somehow, as if it were a corporeal cloud obscuring his vision. He fought the urge to take his glasses off and clean them on the edge of his shirt.

“Come on, while there’s still light,” Tertius said, skipping a few steps forward toward a tall free-standing rock formation. He brushed his hands off a few times – more habit than anything else, as sand was one’s ever-present companion in the Mojave and no amount of surface cleaning would make a noticeable difference – and gripped an outcropping of rock, beginning to climb.

Arcade stopped in his tracks, mouth slightly agape. “You have to be kidding.”

“Ah, don’t be a baby, it’s not that high.” Tertius exhaled heavily with exertion belying his words.

Arcade grimaced. He peered around the side of the rock, tilting sideways at the waist first in one direction, then the other.

“If you’re looking for stairs, there aren’t any,” Tertius yelled down, still climbing up the rock.

“Since when do you read minds?” Arcade replied.

“Tuesday.”

Arcade shook his head, hiding a fond smile. When he looked up again, Tertius was nearly at the top. Arcade sighed with resignation, and walked up to the rock, dragging his feet. He stood staring at it, making no move to begin the climb. He had just about made his mind up to begin considering the possibility of climbing when a rope ladder swung down, hitting him squarely in the face.

“I predict the future now, too,” Tertius yelled down, grinning.

“Well, someone’s had a busy week,” said Arcade. He tested the ladder with one foot, pushing down to make sure it was anchored before climbing. Tertius offered him an arm at the top, and he took it, clambering clumsily onto the plateau atop the rock tower. He regained his composure, uselessly brushing sand off his clothes. Tertius stood tall, hands on his hips as he took an exaggerated deep breath, looking out over the sunset. Arcade turned and looked at the sky as well. From this vantage point, the sunset was stunning: bands of colour in mostly well-defined stripes filled the darkening sky, only blending softly into each other at the edges. The sun was only half-visible at the horizon, and far above it in the sky the dark blackish-blue of night crept in, sparkling stars dotting the darkest parts of the purple and blue stripes of sky.

Tertius gasped. “Oh _no_ ,” he moaned, sounding wounded.

“What’s wrong?” Arcade turned to see him staring down at the valley below them, opposite the side they climbed up.

“That’s what I was going to show you.” Tertius pointed down at the dull, dark pools surrounded by tall but fading California fan palm trees and heaps of garbage: empty shell casings, discarded syringes, grubby Cram tins and Fancy Lads wrappers. He sat down with a thud, frowning. He planted his feet on the ground, and rested his elbows on his knees. Arcade eased himself down next to Tertius, sitting cross-legged.

Tertius continued, “There are so few truly beautiful things left in the world, you know? In all things, really, but especially natural things. This was one of them. Those pools were sparkling, crystal clear. Those trees were massive, big healthy green things. And now it’s just another dump.” The awe and passion with which he spoke of the beauty of the oasis crashed abruptly at his last sentence. It was a sentiment Arcade was all too familiar with; the joy and love inspired by the goodness in the world, followed by the inevitable devastation when that beauty was crushed – that’s just the way of life in the Wasteland. Hanging on to hope was more difficult every day, but he couldn’t let it go. And neither could Tertius, and that’s what Arcade loved about him.

“ _Sic transit gloria mundi_ ,” he said with a sigh.

“I don’t have a car,” Tertius said, his tone still bitter. “And my name’s not Gloria.”

Arcade blinked. “What?”

Tertius turned to him, a giant grin plastering his face, and shot him two finger guns. “Sick transit, Gloria,” he said in his best surfer dude voice.

Arcade was silent and stock-still for a beat. “You’re the worst. You’re the _worst._ ”

Tertius rolled backwards with cackling laughter.

“Why do I put up with you?” Arcade asked, shaking his head.

“My dashing good looks,” Tertius said as he recovered, exaggeratedly smoothing his hair back.

“I don’t know if you’re good-looking enough to be making puns that bad,” Arcade said flatly.

Tertius dropped his jaw in mock offense, his hand hitting his chest over his heart. “You wound me. My puns are _marvellous._ ”

Arcade chuckled, tilting his face downward. Tertius dropped his dramatics, re-settling himself closer to Arcade and draping an arm around his shoulders. They were quiet, listening to the wind shifting the desert sands and rustling the remnants of the palm trees. The last rays of sunlight strained to stay above the horizon as the indigo night swallowed the sky.

“What if we cleaned it up? Brought it back to the way it used to be?” Arcade asked after a long silence, looking thoughtfully down at the fading oasis.

Tertius kissed his cheek. “You’re a sweetheart.”

“Don’t spread it around.”

Tertius laughed. “Don’t worry, your reputation’s safe with me.” He stood up with a slight groan, dusted himself off, and extended an arm to Arcade. “Shall we get started?”

Arcade took his hand and stood up. Tertius smiled at him – his genuine smiles were always so small, but the fondness in them hit Arcade like a train. He gently brought his hand to Arcade’s face and brought him in for a kiss. The cold night chill of the desert faded away as Arcade leaned in, melting into Tertius’s arms.

The realist in Arcade’s head said there was no point in trying to clean up the oasis; they couldn’t protect it, and sooner or later someone would come along and destroy it again. He found the realist easily shoved aside, however. It didn’t have to be perfect forever. It was enough to do something good, to make something beautiful with someone he loved. Hope was always in short supply in the Wasteland, and perhaps all one could do was to brighten one’s own corner of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr at verhexen if you want to come say hi!


End file.
